Shakespeare Be Damned!
by MadTom
Summary: Fred and Wesley deserved a better fate. Dawn and Andrew help give it to them!
1. Chapter 1

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER/ANGEL: SHAKESPEARE BE DAMNED! 

CHAPTER 1

BY

LYLE FRANCIS PADILLA

(aka "Mad Tom")

SUMMARY:

Fred and Wesley deserved a better fate. Dawn and Andrew help give it to them!

SETTING:

Post-Angel: "Not Fade Away", slightly AU per the Author's Notes following. Spoilers for both BtVS and Angel through both series.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This story is part of my larger work-in-progress, _The Family That Slays Together_, which in turn is a follow up to my Buffy/Kolchak: The Night Stalker crossover _Blood of the Night Stalker_. (I have only been recently made aware of ABC-TV's upcoming revival of _The Night Stalker_ for the Fall 2005 Season, so please note that this is a crossover with the _original_ 1970s series with Darren McGavin!)

Rather than let it sit idly on my hard drive until I get to it chronologically as part of a larger series, I thought I'd post it here in the Angel fanfic section temporarily. Please be forewarned that it will eventually be deleted and then reposted in the BtVS fanfic section as either Book 4 or 5 of _The Family That Slays Together_.

This story is in-canon for the entire Buffy series. For explanations as to why Joyce's parents have suddenly become more involved with Buffy's and Dawn's lives, why Grandpa has so much influence with Giles, why Dawn is a Slayer after all, and how Amanda got out of the Sunnydale crater still alive, please read _Blood of the Night Stalker_ and _The Family That Slays Together, Book 1: Home Base_.

The storyline remains in-canon for all of Angel Season 5 until the episode "The Girl in Question". In this slightly Alternate Universe, Roger and Trish Burkle still drop in at Wolfram and Hart, and Illyria still takes on Fred's appearance and convinces them their daughter is alive and fine. But the rest of that episode about Buffy and "The Immortal", and Angel and Spike flying out to Rome (which a majority of Buffyverse fans apparently think was the dumbest episode of the series anyway) simply never happened! PTUI! We shall never speak of it again! ;-)

* * *

Being called into Giles's office this late in the evening was cause enough for concern. Buffy knew it was serious just from the grim expressions on both Giles and Willow's faces.

"We're just waiting for your grandfather," Giles said as she seated herself.

Carl was only a few seconds behind her. As he seated himself, Giles began.

"Willow and I have both received phone calls from the coven in Westbury. There's trouble in LA."

"Potential apocalypse trouble," Willow added.

They waited quietly for several seconds before Buffy asked, "Is Angel involved?"

"I'm afraid so, Buffy," Giles nodded grimly.

"The whole coven senses a tremendous bubbling up of evil rage in LA," Willow said. "The seers sense that it's the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart that are about to rain Hell on Earth. The original Wolf, Ram and Hart. Through a circle of demons who make up their representation in this plane of existence." She paused and lowered her eyes momentarily before adding, "The seers think that there is an ensouled vampire who is now part of that circle."

"No," Buffy shook her head. "Angel wouldn't. The seers have been wrong before."

"Buffy, sweetheart," Carl stroked her shoulder, "you have to look at this objectively."

"I can't, Grandpa. Even though Angel and I were over as an item a long time ago..."

"I agree," Giles nodded. "You can't be objective. Which is why I don't think you should go to LA. We have sixteen other Slayers here if you include Dawn. We can send Andrew's and Amanda's teams, and Dawn."

"I guess as the Senior Watcher here, plus having my own powers," Willow said, "I should lead this one."

"Willow, you can't go either!" Giles said quickly.

Willow was alarmed. "Why not?"

"Because I have reason to believe that the Wolf, Ram and Hart _want_ you in LA so they can tap your powers and use them for their own purposes."

"And you think that because...?"

Giles waited and drew a deep breath before saying, "Because Angel called a few weeks ago and asked me to send you to the Wolfram and Hart office in LA."

"For what? Angel's not the type to call and say, 'Hi, Willow! Long time no see! Why not come over for coffee sometime?'"

"He told me Winifred Burkle was dying and her body was being taken over by an ancient demon ruler."

"What?" Willow turned white. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Willow, we're dealing with Wolfram and Hart here. An evil nearly as great and powerful as The First itself."

"But what if it was true? Oh, God! Fred may really be dead!" Willow's shock was turning into outrage.

"Willow, even if it _is_ true, we have to make tough decisions for the greater good," Giles said calmly. "We couldn't run the risk of Wolfram and Hart getting a hold of you and gaining your powers. We still can't. It could mean the end of the world. You've been there before."

"Giles, Fred is my friend! You had no right--"

"Willow," Carl interrupted her sharply, "while we're debating this point, the Wolf, Ram and Hart are apparently getting more and more apocalyptic."

"Yes," Giles said. "We must focus on the crisis at hand. Buffy, you don't want to lead this mission, just as you've not wanted to touch our other recent previous dealings with Angel, and I think we're all agreed that you shouldn't. Willow, whatever misgivings you may have about my judgment regarding Angel's earlier call, you have to agree, we cannot run the risk. So that leaves just myself."

"Ohh, no!" Buffy said. "If I'm not going, you're not either."

"And why not?" Giles was incensed.

"As much as I couldn't kill Angel again if it came to it," Buffy said, "you'd kill him at any excuse!"

"No, I wouldn't. And with his getting in bed with Wolfram and Hart--"

"There you go! Angel may not be evil. In fact, this whole boiling up thing may be in reaction to him. He could be what's kept the Wolf, Ram and Hart back from trying to destroy the universe already."

"I'm afraid that's just wishful thinking, Buffy," Giles shook his head. "We don't know any of that, and in fact, we should assume--"

"Assume nothing!" Buffy's own anger was rising.

"Buffy's right, Giles,' Willow said. "If she can't go, and I can't go, you shouldn't either."

"And why not?"

"Because you can't be any more objective, either!" Carl spoke up.

Giles raised his eyebrows, while Buffy whispered a quiet "Thanks, Grandpa."

"I'm not just sticking up for my granddaughter, Giles," Carl said calmly. "I've never met Angel, but I know enough of the story to know that you can't be any more objective than she can."

Giles knew he was on thin ice, that either of the two girls could easily physically stop him from going with Slayer strength or magic. He also knew that Carl was right. "Who's left, then?" he asked. "Even if we called Xander back from Cleveland, and he caught the first plane straight to LA and we met him at the airport, he'd never get there in time. So who's left who can lead? Certainly not Andrew or Amanda or Dawn."

"Why _not_ Dawn?" Carl asked. There were mixed emotions in his eyes and voice: familial pride mixed with anxiety and pain.

"Grandpa, she's seventeen!" Buffy said quickly.

"Yes," Carl replied. "Two years older than you were, when you were called, right?"

"I was planning on sending her regardless," Giles nodded. "If nothing else, as an additional Slayer. If you're not letting _me_ go, no reason why she can't be put in charge. She did grow up over the Hellmouth and has been exposed to the Slayer-Watcher dynamic since she was ten. That's far more experience than anyone else who's going. We're running out of options here."

"She won't be alone, Buffy," Carl reminded her. "She'll have a dozen other Slayers and Andrew and Amanda with her."

"And she may not be president of the Angel Fan Club--" Willow added, "not since the first time Angelus tried to attack her and your mom-- but she's not part of the Stake Angel on Sight Faction either."

"What about her Key energy?" Buffy asked. "If the Wolf, Ram and Hart are after Willow's powers, couldn't they use the Key against us as well?"

"It's a calculated risk, Buffy," Giles said. "I don't think there are any beings left alive in the universe who know how to use the Key, or many that can detect it, plus she has the masking magics. Otherwise, I believe they would have come after her as well."

"Calculated risk," Willow said, not trying to hide the doubtfulness in her voice.

* * *

"Dawnie!" Buffy's voice accompanied the sudden loud banging on the door. "Dawnie! Wake up!"

Dawn looked at her bedside clock and figured she'd been asleep less than an hour. She turned on the lamp and went to the door, yawning loudly into Buffy's face as she opened it.

"Dawn!" Buffy said urgently. "Please get dressed and come up to Giles's office!"

"Buffy," she said, then yawned again, "there had better be an apocalypse going on for you to wake me up at this hour!"

"Well, it just so happens..." the grimness in Buffy's eyes betrayed her nonchalant smile. "And I can't go, so tonight may be your night to shine, Dawnie!"

* * *

It was less than half an hour later that they were ready to pull out. After Buffy and the other senior Council members briefed Dawn, Andrew and Amanda as best as they could on the situation in Los Angeles, they and the Slayers-- all of whose sleep had been just as unceremoniously interrupted-- quickly packed up a couple of days' change of clothing and toiletries and drew weapons, and had loaded up the Hummer and two vans.

Dawn was wide awake without benefit of the huge urn of coffee that had been brewed up for them. Although Andrew and his team would lead the convoy in their van, as he already knew the way to Wolfram and Hart's LA office, it was made clear to all that she was in overall charge, and she could barely believe it herself.

Buffy paced up and down the driveway in front of the main building, in front of the others who had gathered on the front steps. They had tried to avoid waking her grandmother, Colette and the other two under-15 Slayers who were staying behind, but it had been impossible with all the commotion. Now on top of Joan fawning over the two of her four granddaughters who were leaving, they had a whining contingent of junior Slayers to add to the chaos.

"Guys!" Buffy finally snapped at the three youngsters. "For the last time, you're not being left out!" She lowered her voice so those boarding the vehicles couldn't hear. "If anything goes wrong with those guys, _we_--" she gestured to include Willow who was standing nearby-- "may be the last line of defense against the end of the world."

Joan finally let go of Dawn and Cyndi as Buffy went up to them by the Hummer. Cyndi got in the front passenger seat, in front of Leslie, one of the other Slayers from Amanda's team, and Maureen from Andrew's team.

"Dawn," Buffy said.

"Buffy..." she replied painfully.

"I'm not saying goodbye, Dawnie. I just want to tell you you'll do fine. Now make me proud, and come home safe!"

"Thanks!" The two sisters embraced tightly and kissed, both fighting back tears. Dawn managed to wait until she had her back to Buffy before sniffling and letting a single tear roll down her cheek. She had composed herself by the time she settled into the driver's seat of the Hummer, inserting her favorite broadsword into the customized rack they had attached to the center console.

Cyndi had inserted the stake end of the Slayer scythe into the rack on her side of the console. "I still can't believe Buffy let me carry the scythe!" she said. "Dawn, since you're in charge, shouldn't you have it?"

"This is my lucky sword," Dawn explained. "I killed my first couple of demons with it, fighting beside Buffy two years ago. I'd rather have it than the scythe." She was avoiding discussing the fact-- especially in front of the other two Slayers-- that she wasn't a true Slayer, that her strength and powers may not have been connected to the scythe, and that she didn't seem to feel its power to the same extent the others did. Despite some misgivings from Buffy, if they were being sent to hold off an apocalypse in LA, it made no sense to leave the scythe behind. And although the new Council had taken pains to avoid the appearance of special treatment for Dawn, Cyndi and Colette, there was still some logic in entrusting the scythe to Buffy's other blood relative who was going.

In front of them, the members of Andrew's team slid the door shut on their van, and then Andrew stuck his arm out the driver's window and pumped his fist in the air a couple of times, the military hand signal that Xander had taught them for a convoy to move out. Dawn started the Hummer and pulled out behind Andrew, with Amanda and her team bringing up the rear in their own van. Overhead, the sky was clear and starlit, but far off beyond the horizon toward the Southwest, in the direction of Los Angeles, there were flashes of lightning that had an otherworldly quality to them.

* * *

The two ensouled vampires had helped, as had Gunn despite his injuries. But the hundreds of demon corpses piling up around them in that rain-drenched alley were mostly her doing, and as the last demon's skull shattered before her fist, she knew that her rage would sustain her through any further onslaught by the Senior Partners.

And then suddenly, in the strange silence that followed the storm of battle, she realized that she had no more outlet for that rage. Then she felt the tears burning her eyes and flowing down her cheeks.

_Wait!_ she thought. _I didn't call for these! I did earlier when I tapped the shell's memories for Wesley's dying moments! But not now!_ She was relieved that there was still some rain falling on her face to mask the tears so the others wouldn't see them, but she couldn't slow down the flow at all, let alone stop it. _Oh, God! Wesley!_

Then she fell to her knees and began sobbing loudly, unable to stop the others from hearing her, and they turned toward her in disbelief.

_What's happening to me? Why am I having these feelings? Wesley was kind and helpful to me, but he was a mere human! Why am I feeling such pain over his death? Oh, my God!... Wait! Why am I calling out to God? I AM a god! No! It's the shell! I'm feeling the pain of the shell, the feelings of Fred Burkle! She's still inside this body! Ugh! Is this what it means to be human? To have these frailties? To feel rage and pain and grief and sorrow and... love? My God! I can feel Fred Burkle! No, I AM Fred Burkle! Oh, God! Fred, I'm so sorry!..._

Illyria collapsed onto her back, and as she did so, the glowing blue in her hair and her leathery armor morphed away...

* * *

**FEEDBACK/REVIEWS ARE INVITED!**


	2. Chapter 2

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER/ANGEL: SHAKESPEARE BE DAMNED! 

CHAPTER 2

BY

LYLE FRANCIS PADILLA

(aka "Mad Tom")

* * *

Winifred Burkle regained consciousness to see the three figures kneeling over her. In the dim light, she could recognize them: Angel, Gunn and Spike. As her eyes gained more focus, she could see stars in the night sky; the rain had stopped and the clouds had cleared. She became more aware of her other senses, and realized she was lying flat on the cobblestones of the alleyway and that she was a little chilly. She looked down at her body and realized why: she was barefoot, and her knit top and skirt were muddy and wet from the rain-- the same knit top and skirt she'd been wearing in her apartment when Illyria had taken over her body, when she felt herself dying in Wesley's arms.

"Oh, God! Wesley!" she moaned, then let her head sink back onto the cobblestones and her eyes roll back into their sockets.

"Illyria!" Angel said.

"Just let me die!" she sobbed weakly. "I want to be with Wesley. I promised him I would... I don't care if Illyria dies with me, she's the one who brought this on."

That raised the eyebrows of the three others. "Fred?" Gunn squinted at her.

"It's me, Charles," she murmured. "I mean, Illyria's still here, inside me, but I have control of my body back. Not that it matters much. Just let me die."

"Fred, if it's really you," Angel said, "don't even think like that!" He turned to Gunn. "We need to get both of you to the hospital." He added ruefully, "A _real_ hospital, now that the one at Wolfram and Hart is no longer available."

"Sounds good to me," Gunn nodded, still clutching at his gut wound. "Mercer Memorial's the closest."

"Okay," Angel nodded. "Spike, you carry Gunn, I'll carry Fred."

"No!" Fred cried. "I said, let me die! Leave me!"

Angel sighed. "If we're gonna move, we don't have much time. Won't be long before sunrise. Spike, you go on ahead with Gunn."

"You got it, Mate," Spike nodded, then turned to Fred, kissed her forehead and held her shoulder. "Fred, if you're really back, thanks again for what you did for me, when I was about to go to Hell. I'll owe you forever."

"You're welcome, Spike," she murmured. "You're a good man worth saving... Have a good life. I hope you find happiness."

Gunn kissed her on the cheek. "Please come with us, Fred."

"No. Goodbye, Charles. Thanks for everything... And I forgive you for the sarcophagus. You didn't know."

"Angel," Spike said, "do what you can to change her mind, will you?"

"I will. Now go!"

"Okay," Spike said as he boosted Gunn to his feet. "Let's go, Charlie Boy!"

Gunn let out a short, sharp grunt as Spike slung him over his shoulder and started working his way over and around the piles of dead demons between them and the street. "It can't be that bad, Charlie," Spike smiled. "Illyria said you wouldn't last ten minutes in that fight. It's been over two hours, the fight's over, we won, and you're still with us!"

"Only two hours?" Gunn mumbled. "Felt more like two days. Besides, she did most of the killing."

Angel watched them disappear down the alley behind the dead dragon, then returned his attention to Fred. "Fred, if you're really back, I can't let you die! Let me take you..."

"No!" Fred moaned. "I want to be with Wesley. You have to respect that, Angel."

"Wes would want you to live. For him."

"I promised him we'd be together. He died thinking he was going where I was... and now he's not." She sniffled. "Angel, sometimes letting someone die is the right thing to do... Letting that person live can be cruel. You know that."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Not that I'm agreeing that this is the case with you. At least tell me where you're hurt so I can make you more comfortable."

"Not sure," Fred replied, then paused. The shock of having control of her body returned to her while still feeling the essence of Illyria within, combined with her grief over Wesley, had been so overwhelming that she hadn't been able to sort out the myriad of emotional and physical sensations. "I'm aching all over, like every fiber of my whole body's been on fire. I feel like I can't move too well. And I'm cold."

Angel looked around the alley. He had the clothing from several assorted demons to pick from, and he didn't have to step too far away from Fred to come back with the cloaks of two Rekrab demons and blanket her with them.

"You don't have any open wounds or I'd smell your blood," he told her. He sat on the cobblestones and then propped up her head in his lap.

"Thanks," she murmured. "I think I'm bleeding to death internally."

"Or maybe you're not dying at all," he tried to sound encouraging.

"Oh!" As weak as she was, her disappointment in that possibility was loud and clear. "Then just let me lie here. If I'm not dying, then it won't matter whether or not you take me to the hospital." After a few seconds' thought, she added, "And Angel, if I'm not dead in half an hour, I want you to drink my blood. Feast on me and let me join Wesley."

"You know I'm never gonna do that, Fred!"

"I'm begging you, Angel. Please. For me and for Wesley."

"Not gonna! Don't even think like that!"

Fred rolled her head slowly from side to side. Angel saw that she first eyed his sword on the ground next to him, and then scanned the assortment of demon weapons littering the alleyway.

"And don't go grabbing for the happy dagger, Juliet!" he said firmly. "Shakespeare be damned! This whole star-crossed lovers' suicide pact thing is way overrated."

She began sobbing.

"Talk to me, Fred. What happened? What do you remember?"

"Everything," she cried. "Illyria burning my body from the inside out, taking over it. I remember going to her temple with Knox and finding her army all dead... I remember her deciding to continue to exist in our world, asking Wesley to guide her... Wesley agreeing to do it because she looked like me... Spike and Wesley draining her powers and fighting her... I was trapped inside my own body without having any control over it."

"Oh, I know what _that's_ like!"

"Illyria tapped into me when she wanted to appear to be me... like for my parents, and for Wesley at the end... She tapped into my soul... but I couldn't cry out for help! She wouldn't let me!"

"So if you're Fred, you weren't in some heavenly dimension?"

"Illyria talked about burning up my soul and some electrical spasms staying behind. But those spasms _were_ my soul. It never left my body. I never really died. But even Illyria didn't realize it... or understand it."

"I want to believe that, but..."

"Then believe it, Angel." She looked deeply into his eyes with her own eyes flowing with tears. "It's really me. Why would Illyria do this?"

"Maybe because you're... _she's_ tired of living without her demon kingdom to rule over. Wants me to kill her mortal coil in this world."

"No. Not exactly... After Wesley died... when we were all here in the alley... she told you and the others that she grieved for him." She sniffled. "She'd never felt anything like it before. That was _my_ grief she was feeling. Or maybe she loved Wesley too... and connected with _my_ love and _my_ grief. That part's all mixed up inside me... It was both of us fighting and killing the demons. We wanted to make sure you and Charles and Spike made it... But now that she's felt real pain and loss... she's sorry for all the pain she's caused us all... So sorry that when we were done fighting, she gave me back my body... even though she knows that I _want_ to die... and that she'll die with me."

Angel stroked her hair. "I'm not going to let you die, Fred!"

"Then you believe it's me?"

"I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. All the more reason to help you to live."

"No. Whether or not I'm really me, either way, let me die and you get to kill Illyria... for all the pain and misery she's caused all of us... And Wesley's waiting for me, Angel."

"I'm taking you to the hospital, Fred."

"No! And don't give me the 'Things will get better, you have a lot to live for' speech. I have nothing to live for here without Wesley... and Illyria has nothing either."

Angel sighed. "Now you're making me doubt that you're really Fred. Look, I can't argue with you all night. If I'm taking you to the hospital, we have to move soon. We're running out of darkness. Dawn's coming."

"Dawn's _here_!" another female voice interjected, vaguely familiar to Angel and with a bit of a smirk in it. He turned to see a pair of women's boots on the cobblestones beside him, with the point of a broadsword between them. He followed the boot calves, the black jeans and the sword upward until he came to a familiar face. Older and atop a taller and curvier frame than he'd remembered. Then he realized that the last time he'd seen her was three and a half years earlier and from a distance, at her mother's funeral in Sunnydale. He'd waited until she and the others had left Buffy alone at the graveside before coming up to console Buffy and sit with her the rest of the night. Now with the more mature features and some blonde highlights in her long hair, on top of the dark outfit and sword, she looked even more like her older sister than he'd remembered. And now taller than her.

"Dawn?" he squinted at her. "What the hell are you doing here?" As he asked, he saw over a dozen more teenage girls working their way from the street around the piles of demon corpses, and forming up behind her, each holding a weapon of some kind. He recognized most of them as the same Slayers who had accompanied Andrew on his mission to retrieve Dana, the psychotic molestation victim who'd been activated as a Slayer while in a mental hospital. The blond girl closest to Dawn held the red-bladed scythe that he remembered Buffy using to kill Caleb the Evil Preacher.

"We heard there was another apocalypse brewing," Dawn said casually. "Is it over, or are you just taking five?"

"I _think_ it's over," Angel shrugged. He noticed Andrew bringing up the rear of the Slayer contingent, looking nervously into every nook and cranny of the alleyway, and immediately knew why. _Don't worry, Andrew. You just missed him, and there's no way I'm letting Buffy's kid sis in on our little secret!_

Her head still in Angel's lap, Fred let out a moan.

"What's wrong with her?" Dawn asked. "Who is she?"

"Fred!" Andrew gasped as he saw her.

"I _think_ it's Fred," Angel shrugged again.

"You _think_?" Dawn raised her eyebrows.

"Long story," Angel sighed. "Fred Burkle, this is Dawn Summers, Buffy's lit-- uh, _younger_ sister. And you remember Andrew."

"Is she all right?" Andrew asked.

"I'm not sure," Angel said. "She could be bleeding to death internally. Or she could just have a broken heart."

Fred's eyes opened wider and she lifted her head off Angel's lap as he continued to explain, "She and Wesley were... Well, Wesley didn't make it."

"Wesley's dead?" Dawn felt her own heart sinking. Even though she'd resented the way the Council had sacked Giles as Buffy's Watcher and had forced Wesley upon them all, she never held it against him and had grown to like him over time. Another loss in her young life.

"Oh, poor Pryce!" Andrew hung his head.

"Oh, my God!" Fred gasped. They'd paid little notice to the fact that she had propped herself up on her elbows and was now squinting as she scanned around the girls now gathered in a semicircle around her and Angel. "It's not too late! We can bring him back!"

"Fred?" Angel asked. "How? What are you talking about?"

Galvanized, Fred sat fully upright and continued looking around, more frantically now. "I can sense-- _Illyria_ can sense an energy of some kind. One that just got here."

"Okay, so she's _not_ bleeding to death internally," Dawn sighed to herself.

"She's not exactly sure what that energy is," Fred continued, breathing heavily and excitedly, "but she can use it to bring Wesley back!" She turned toward Cyndi, who was behind Dawn holding the scythe. "Illyria can't seem to focus on it, but it seems to be around you!"

Cyndi held the weapon out toward her. "Is it this? This is the Slayer scythe. The scythe that gave us all our powers."

Fred stared at it intently, touched it momentarily. "No," she shook her head. "Illyria can sense the energy from it, but it's a different energy. The energy that can bring Wesley back... it can cross dimensions, and that's what we need to pull his soul back!"

_Oh, God! She's talking about ME!_ Dawn realized.

Fred rose up on her feet, rather unsteadily but excited now. "We don't have much time," she said to Cyndi as she draped one of the cloaks over her shoulders. "It's like when your heart stops and you try CPR. Illyria can use some of your energy to reverse the cellular damage to Wesley's body, but there comes a point when it's irreversible."

"_My_ energy?" Cyndi asked.

"Please!" Fred grabbed her shoulder. "We don't have much time. Illyria was wrong about my soul being gone, but she's sure about Wesley's this time. We have to get back to his body before he's gone forever!"

"Where _is_ Wesley's body?" Dawn asked.

"It's in a mansion in Holmby Hills," Fred replied. "Do you have a car? It's a fifteen to twenty minute drive this time of night, but at least an hour and a half walk, and it may be too late by then."

"Cyndi, get in the Hummer!" Dawn said sharply, then turned back to Fred. "I'm driving. Let's go! Amanda, you're in charge here. Keep an eye on Angel and be ready in case there's a Round Two from the Big Bads."

"Got it," Amanda nodded.

"But Dawn, I don't..." Cyndi started.

"I'll explain on the way!" Dawn told her, then as they started down the alley back toward the street, she reassured Fred, "Wesley was my friend too. From a long time ago."

The three of them worked their way around the dead demons toward the street. Fred stepped rather quickly and steadily on the wet cobblestones despite still being barefoot, driven and determined to save her love.

The Hummer and two vans were parked right at the entrance to the alleyway. Dawn unlocked the Hummer with her remote and got behind the wheel, handing her sword to Cyndi who still had the scythe. Fred got in the front passenger seat as Cyndi got in the back with both weapons, then Dawn pulled out onto the empty street and headed for the freeway.

"Oh, Fred, this is my cousin Cyndi. Turns out our grandpa was a legendary vamp hunter back in the sixties and seventies, and apparently the Slayer gene runs through his bloodline."

"Yeah, I've heard of him," Fred nodded. "Willow told me, but I'd actually heard of him even before that. Without ever seeing the TV show."

"Yeah, the Slayer gene's fine," Cyndi said, "but Dawn, I don't have any special cross-dimensional energy. I don't know what she's talking about!"

"_I_ do," Dawn said, then after a beat, she added: "To both."

"What... what do you mean?" Fred asked.

"You don't know exactly what that energy is that you sense, let's keep it that way. Very few beings in the entire universe can detect it at all. I don't like to advertise it, not to the other Slayers, not even to my own cousins who are Slayers. But _I'm_ the one who has the energy. I also have some kind of masking powers which is why even though you could sense it, you couldn't focus on it. But if you think it can help bring back Wesley and we're in a time crunch to use it, okay, I'll give it a shot."

"Thanks, Dawn. It'll work. I _know_ it'll work... Uh, Illyria knows it'll work."

Dawn squinted sideways at her. "Fred, who the heck is Illyria?"

* * *

**FEEDBACK/REVIEWS ARE INVITED!**


	3. Chapter 3

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER/ANGEL: SHAKESPEARE BE DAMNED! 

CHAPTER 3

BY

LYLE FRANCIS PADILLA

(aka "Mad Tom")

* * *

Angel unlocked the back door to the Hyperion Hotel, and the Slayers and the two Watchers followed him in from the alley.

"Angel Investigations still owns the building," he explained as he led them down the hallway. "Utilities are still hooked up, but we haven't been in here much since we moved to Wolfram and Hart. If you're all just hanging around waiting for a possible Round Two and for Dawn and her cousin and Fred-- and, God willing, Wesley-- to get back, I suggest you all just hang out in the lobby."

He led them into the lobby, then worked his way around the counter toward his old office. The others followed him. He looked back at them and sighed.

"Mr. Angel," Amanda said, "you know we're not gonna let you out of our sight."

"Yeah, I heard what Dawn said about keeping an eye on me. And I know the whole lot of you working together could dust me in a New York minute. Jeez! Can't a guy make a private phone call in his own building?"

Andrew held Amanda's hand and smiled. "Let me take care of this. Keep both teams in the lobby. You can see us through the glass."

He followed Angel into his office while the Slayers and Amanda waited outside the door. As he closed it behind him, he said anxiously but at a whisper: "Angel, what happened to Spike?"

"Relax, Andrew. He's all right. He survived the fight. Gunn got hurt and he took him to the hospital about ten or fifteen minutes before you got here."

"So he'll be back?" Andrew asked. He was more worried than hopeful, and Angel understood perfectly why.

"Not if I'm lucky! And you can relax. If he doesn't come back, I'm not saying a word to Dawn. And if I know him as well as I think I do, he's gonna take this opportunity to bug out and try to find..." He stopped, and a smile crept to his face. "Buffy's not really in Rome, is she?"

Andrew pursed his lips. "No comment."

"She can't be! No way she'd send Dawn on a mission this potentially apocalyptic unless she was somewhere nearby. And there's no way the two of them could have made it here from Rome in the few hours since the Senior Partners started their rumblings tonight."

"No comment!"

"Not a problem, my friend!" Angel laughed as he slapped Andrew's shoulder. "Unless Spike has a total change of character within the next couple of hours, none of us are going to be hearing from him any time in the foreseeable future. Including Buffy! So you're probably off the hook!"

"Oh. Good." Andrew nodded. "Oh, you were about to make a phone call?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks. Almost forgot."

* * *

"_Whoa!_" Dawn yelled as she stomped on the brakes, even though the street in Holmby Hills was empty of traffic and there were no stop signs or traffic lights anywhere in sight ahead of them. The tires of the Hummer screeched as she and her two passengers were thrown into their shoulder belts.

"Dawn, what's wrong?" Fred asked, gasping nervously. "Was it something I said?"

"Big Whoa here!" Dawn looked at her, also breathing heavily. "Fred, I understand that you're grieving for Wesley and you're anxious to get him back. He was my friend too. I know we have a lot of friends in common. Willow thinks the world of you..."

"But?"

"But the last time an exiled demon-goddess sharing a body with a human being tried to use my energy for something, the entire universe almost disintegrated! And my sister had to die to stop it!"

Fred's heart sank. "Dawn, it won't be anything like that. I promise!"

"Who's promising? Fred or Illyria?"

"Both of us." Fred bit her lip. "Can we at least keep driving while we discuss this? We're running out of time."

Dawn continued driving down the street. "All right. But you just told me Illyria didn't even realize your soul was still in your body. So how can she be sure this won't cause the end of the universe?"

"Because Illyria was a haughty, arrogant goddess who didn't really understand or care about the human soul... and is now so sorry for it that she's sublimated herself to me and wants to undo her damage. But she does understand mystic energy. And I'm a physicist. Between us, we know how to tap and channel them."

"Does it involve my bleeding in any way?"

"No. I just draw a little of your energy by holding your hand."

"You're sure?"

"No blood. I promise." Fred paused thoughtfully. "Dawn, your sister died, but Willow brought her back. She told me the story. That's what we'll be doing."

"That's not the point. But as long as you brought it up, did Willow also tell you that Buffy was in a heavenly dimension, and that being brought back made this life feel like hell for her? That Buffy was depressed and suicidal for six months afterward?"

"But she's fine now, right? You don't mean to tell me you're sorry that Willow brought her back!"

Dawn's eyes watered as she relived the entire experience in seconds, from the time Buffy jumped off Glory's tower into the interdimensional portal, to the time a year later when she finally snapped out of her depression after the two sisters together had to fight off a horde of Earth Demons that a grieving and berserk Willow had summoned. "No," she admitted.

"Dawn," Fred cried, "Buffy's your sister. Wesley's the love of my life. You must know how how I feel."

"I do," Dawn sniffled, then, while continuing to steer with her left hand, placed her right over Fred's left. "You absolutely promise no blood?"

She suddenly felt a mild current where their hands touched, and out of the corner of her eye saw a ball of green sparks glow momentarily around the two hands. It lasted a second or so.

"It'll be just like that," Fred smiled. "Nothing more. I promise."

"All right," Dawn nodded.

Fred guided Dawn through a couple of turns through the neighborhood, onto the circular driveway of a large Tudor mansion. They stopped under the awning at the front doorway and opened the doors to the Hummer.

"Cyndi," Dawn said as she reached for her sword, "bring the scythe."

"We won't need it," Fred told them. "Like I said, it's a different kind of energy."

Dawn looked into her cousin's eyes. "Bring the scythe. Stand back and use your instincts. Anything happens that makes me bleed, or if it looks like some unworldly glowing portal starts to open, or anything else doesn't feel right, take her head off!"

Fred went pale but said nothing as she opened the mansion door.

"Dawn," Cyndi said, "Buffy told me and Colette about her dying and coming back. But neither of you ever said anything about your blood being able to end the universe."

"Like I said, I don't like to advertise this. And it's only when I bleed under extremely special conditions-- Heck, if it was every time I bled, the universe would have ended a dozen times over." Dawn smiled as she gave Cyndi a gentle push toward the door. "Welcome to the Kolchak clan, Cuz!"

They followed Fred through the doorway. She led them through a maze of chandeliered wood-paneled corridors with marble flooring, and into a large ballroom.

The body of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce lay on the marble floor in the center of the ballroom as Illyria had left it: laid out with his hands resting on his abdomen, a huge and now darkened bloodstain on his gray sweater underneath. Dressed in the gray turtleneck, a brown leather jacket and jeans rather than the traditional tweed of the old Watchers, Dawn barely recognized him. A few bloodstains on his face didn't help either. She and Cyndi noticed in the doorway to a dining room off to one side, sprawled as if casually tossed there, the headless corpse of some red-skinned demon in a red silk robe. Remnants of a skull with long white hair were still attached to its neck.

Fred knelt at the side of Wesley's body, weeping, and then she looked up at Dawn and Cyndi as she touched it. "We're not too late!" she smiled.

"Okay," Dawn nodded with relief. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just sit on his other side."

Dawn did so, tucking up her legs into the lotus position and laying her sword within easy reach, then gave a brief moment of eye contact to Cyndi, who moved to about two steps behind Fred with the scythe in the ready position. Fred glanced nervously over her shoulder.

"You keep your promise and it won't matter that she's there," Dawn told Fred.

"I understand. I will," Fred said. She gently moved Wesley's hands aside, exposing a large, gaping and gory knife wound. She then held Dawn's right hand with her own left. There were no sparks or current. "Place your other hand on his heart."

Dawn did so, and then Fred placed her right hand on the knife wound. Dawn felt the mild current running through both of her hands. The green sparks appeared, running from her left hand and disappearing into Wesley's chest, and from her right hand they flowed up Fred's arm and began to envelop her entire body. When the envelopment was complete, the sparks built up in intensity around her so that she was by far the brightest object in the room, and then Dawn saw that Fred was no longer wearing a scavenged demon cloak over a wet top and skirt, but was clad in some kind of leathery armor, her hair and eyes no longer chestnut-brown but a glowing light blue.

_Illyria, I presume?_ Dawn thought. She forced herself not to laugh or smile, and made appreciative note of the fact that she had full control over all her faculties and, as promised, was feeling nothing more than the rush of mild current through her hands.

The green sparks then ran from Illyria's/Fred's right hand onto the open wound on Wesley's abdomen, building up there before spreading up and connecting with the sparks flowing from Dawn's left hand into his chest. Soon both Wesley's body and Fred were glowing brightly with the green electricity, and then the body began to twitch and then to convulse with increasing intensity. Suddenly, with one final convulsion, Wesley let out an ungodly scream as the green sparks burst outward from him, knocking both Dawn and Fred on their backs. Dawn immediately propped herself back up on her elbows, but Fred stayed down and passed out with an exhausted moan, a dark-haired waif once again.

"Whoa!" Cyndi said as she knelt next to Fred. "That's some combined punch the two of you have!"

"Yeah," Dawn nodded, catching her breath. "She all right?"

"I think she just fainted," Cyndi said after feeling Fred's pulse at her throat. Dawn returned her attention to Wesley. There were still some green sparks over his knife wound, and then they dissipated and she saw through the hole in his sweater that the wound had closed with a red scar. His chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.

"Bloody hell!" Wesley groaned. He opened his eyes and looked around slowly: he was back on the floor in Vail's ballroom; somehow Vail had been decapitated and his body had been moved from where Illyria had knocked him earlier, and Illyria was lying unconscious beside him, still looking like Fred, only now barefoot and wearing some strange cloak or cape. And there were two teenage girls kneeling over the two of them; one was a blonde whom he had never seen before and who was staring at him in open-mouthed awe as if she were seeing the dead rise up. The other, darker-haired girl closer to him was less awestruck, and seemed vaguely familiar.

"Hi, Wes!" she smiled as she touched his shoulder. She was no longer the pigtailed, freckle-faced preadolescent he remembered, but there was no mistaking that room-brightening smile.

"Dawn?" he squinted at her.

"Yeah, it's me," she nodded. "How you feeling?"

"I... I'm not sure." He tried to sit up but fell backward. "What the devil are you doing here, Dawn? You're just about the last person in the world I'd ever expect to see in a place like this."

"A lot can change in five years," Dawn replied as she helped him sit up. "You might say Buffy let me in on the family business. The seers in the coven that Giles works with sensed a big time rise of evil here in LA. They sent me to lead a team of Slayers to ward off an apocalypse. Oh, and speaking of the family business, this is my cousin Cyndi. She's a Slayer too.""

"Pleased to meet you," Wesley nodded. "Yes, a lot _has_ changed!"

"The seers guided us to the alleyway behind the Hyperion," Dawn continued. "When we got there, we found this whole horde of assorted dead demons around Angel and Fred."

"Just Angel and..." he nodded toward Fred's still unconscious form, "... her?"

"Yeah," Dawn nodded.

"I imagine they're all that's left, then," he said mournfully. Before he said anything else, he remembered that Buffy and her crew didn't know that Spike had returned. With him presumably now dust, better off that they not know at all.

"They were, but now we got you back!"

His eyes opened wide with the realization and recollection. "Oh, my God! Yes, I _was_ dead, wasn't I?"

"Doornail," Cyndi nodded.

"How... how was I... brought back?"

"This is something I don't want too many people to know about," Dawn replied. "None of us knew about it back when you were Buffy's Watcher. But I have some kind of supernatural energy inside me. The less people know about it, the better, but Fred said that Illyria could sense my energy and could use it to bring you back, so..."

Fred moaned and opened her eyes. She blinked a few times, and then turned her head toward Wesley. In an instant, she snapped to sitting upright and had her arms tightly around him. "Wesley!" she cried out. He stiffened in her arms as she kissed him. "Oh, Wesley! My love! You're alive!" She reached out to momentarily squeeze Dawn's hand. "We did it, Dawn! Oh, thank you! Thank you!" She continued to sob as she kissed him repeatedly on the lips and both cheeks. Dawn watched with watering eyes, remembering her own feelings upon seeing Buffy alive for the first time after Willow's resurrection spell, but then she became more aware of Wesley's stiff posture and cold facial expression, and of Fred's obliviousness to it.

Wesley could no longer stand it. He pulled away and grabbed Fred's wrists, holding her off at a distance.

"Thank you, but you should have let me stay dead!" he said. "Send me back!"

"Hey, Romeo!" Dawn said. "Before you take the poison, make sure Juliet's really dead first!"

"This isn't Fred!" he snapped at Dawn, then turned to Fred. "I let you lie to me because I was dying. Why you brought me back, I don't know, but now that I'm back, don't look like her again!"

"Wesley, it's _me_!" Fred sobbed. "I'm Fred! Illyria was wrong about my soul being destroyed. She didn't understand about human souls or emotions. I was trapped in my own body without any control over it the whole time. When she turned into me while you were dying, she felt my pain and my grief. She never felt it before and she's sorry. She's still inside me but she gave me my body back. She thought I was going to die, and she was willing to die with me because she's so sorry for the pain she caused all of us."

"You've always been a very convincing liar, Illyria." Wesley said bitterly. As she dropped back to the floor and buried her face in her forearms, he turned to Dawn. "You should never have brought me back."

"You may feel that way now, Wes," Dawn said, recalling Buffy's own traumatic experiences, "but it'll get better. What do you remember?"

"I remember going toward a bright light," Wesley said wistfully. "Then it was warm and the light was gentle, and there was soft music, and I was formless, and I was cared for..."

Dawn nodded. It was very similar to what Buffy had described.

"... but it wasn't really Heaven because Fred wasn't there!" he finished, tears forming in his eyes.

"Well, DUH!" Dawn threw her hands up. "You think maybe that's because she's lying right next to you?"

Fred took her face out of her forearms and looked up tearfully at him, but said nothing more.

"Uh, Dawn," Cyndi spoke up. "Do you think we can continue this back in the Hummer? My spider sense is tingling."

"Yeah," Dawn nodded. "Let's go."

She and Cyndi had just helped Wesley and Fred to stand up when they were suddenly bowled over by a bolt of demonic energy from behind.

* * *

**FEEDBACK/REVIEWS ARE INVITED!**

**Thanks to Nala147 for your comment. Hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. ;-)**


	4. Chapter 4

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER/ANGEL: SHAKESPEARE BE DAMNED! 

CHAPTER 4

BY

LYLE FRANCIS PADILLA

(aka "Mad Tom")

* * *

"You're a very stupid, stupid little girl for a demon goddess!" Cyvus Vail snarled at Fred. The head of the red-skinned, red-robed sorcerer-demon had somehow regenerated and he had arisen. He was holding the same Gurkha-style knife he had used to gut Wesley initially and was stepping toward them. "You should know that using magic to bring back the de--ARRGH!"

Before it even registered in his mind, the other dark-haired girl had whipped out a curved Bringer's knife from her jacket and thrown it into his heart with such force that only the handle and hilt protruded. He dropped to his knees as Dawn approached him, sword in hand.

"You were about to tell her that she should have known that using magic to bring back the dead has consequences, and that demons can hitch a ride back with the returning soul," Dawn smirked. "Well, I can't vouch for _her_ knowledge, but when you grow up with the Slayer for a big sister, you pick up a lot of stuff." The shock was frozen on Vail's face as, with a single swing of Dawn's sword, he lost his head for the second time in one night.

"Awww!" Cyndi said as she stepped up behind her cousin, waving the scythe. "_I_ wanted to split him vertically from the crotch up, like Buffy's been teaching me!"

Dawn reached down and pulled the headless demon corpse by its bloody collar. She held it up in a standing position as she retrieved her Bringer's knife. "Have at it, just to play safe with this guy."

Cyndi adjusted her grip on the scythe and swung it in a downward and then upward arc. Dawn let go and jumped out of the way as the blade connected with Vail's crotch and ran upward, the carcass splitting and falling two ways, the way Buffy had described her killing of Caleb the Evil Preacher to them countless times.

Dawn leaned over and picked up Vail's severed head by his long, wispy strands of white hair, then held it so it was face-to-face with her. "And if you _ever_ get another opportunity to reanimate, quit while you're ahead!"

Fred, Wesley and Cyndi all groaned loudly.

"You _and_ Buffy!" Cyndi rolled her eyes. "Dawn, _please_ tell me the bad puns aren't part of the genetic thing too!"

* * *

Cyndi rode shotgun on the way back to the Hyperion; she and Dawn were both sure their spider senses were clear of any impending threat. Wesley and Fred sat in the back seat.

"I told you to stop looking like her!" Wesley said coldly.

"No!" Fred's sorrow and anguish had given way to resentment. "I don't care if you don't believe it's me, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. I've got my body back and I'm keeping it. Illyria and I have a new understanding."

The two of them remained quiet for the rest of the drive; Wesley turned his back to Fred and stared out the window, while she kept fighting the urge to reach out to touch him.

It was getting light and the streets were starting to awaken with activity by the time they returned to the Hyperion. Once inside the lobby, Wesley was embraced fiercely by Angel, Andrew and a pretty young blonde woman whom Dawn had never seen before. Amanda and the rest of the Slayers were seated in the waiting area.

"It worked!" Angel cried out. "Welcome back, Wes, old buddy!"

"Yes, thank you, Angel," Wesley said distantly.

After hugging Wesley, the blonde did the same to Fred and her eyes began to water. "Fred, if it's really you, I'm glad you're back too!"

"That's the problem now," Fred sniffed. "Wesley doesn't believe it's me either."

"Gotta be honest, Fred," Angel said. "I'm not a hundred percent either." He put his arm around the blonde's waist in a way that raised Dawn's eyebrows. "Excuse me. Dawn, Cyndi, this is Nina."

"Hi!" Dawn smiled, quietly assessing the situation and trying to figure out how much of this to tell her sister.

Fred stepped over to the nearest empty couch and collapsed onto it, weeping quietly. Wesley made a point of sitting in another couch at the other end of the area, averting eye contact.

"Wes," Angel came up to him, "for whatever it's worth, before Dawn and the others showed up with this energy or whatever it is that brought you back, Fred asked me to drink her blood and kill her if she didn't die of her injuries. She wanted to be with you. That doesn't sound very Illyria-like to me."

"Maybe what she said is true about Illyria feeling guilty and being willing to die to make up for the pain. That doesn't make her Fred."

"What's the harm in giving her the benefit of the doubt?"

"Harm? It would make a mockery of the memory of Fred's soul."

"Wesley, it's me!" Fred cried, her voice weak and exhausted. She pointed to her chest. "Fred's soul is right here! What will it take to convince you?"

"Nothing will convince me. As I've said before, you've always been a convincing liar, Illyria."

"Wes," Dawn said, "you said when you were in your afterlife dimension, Fred wasn't there. Isn't it possible...?"

"That doesn't mean she isn't in some other afterlife dimension."

"Too bad Lorne isn't around anymore," Angel shook his head. "He could read her soul and we'd know for sure."

"Oh," Andrew lowered his head as he spoke up. "He didn't survive?"

"I'm pretty sure he did," Angel replied. "We gave him a relatively safe but unpleasant task. But he said he was out after this. Not to try to contact him."

"But this is an unforeseen development," Andrew brightened. "Maybe he won't mind. He was a Deathwok from Pylea, right?"

"Yeah," Angel nodded.

"What was his full name?"

"Krevlornswath."

Andrew looked around. "You guys have a piano or other keyboard instrument around?"

"In the cocktail lounge. Right through those doors."

"You're going to try to summon this guy Lorne?" Dawn asked Andrew.

"Hey, sometimes old skills from past careers can come in handy," Andrew smiled.

Fred stood slowly as Andrew, Dawn, Angel and Nina started toward the lounge. "Better have all the Slayers around for this," she said as she followed after them. "If anything goes wrong, the rest of the Pylean Deathwoks aren't anything like Lorne."

Dawn nodded and turned toward the Slayers. "Ladies..."

They arose and followed. Grudgingly, Wesley got up and joined them.

Andrew sat at the dusty old baby grand, lifted the keyboard cover and played a chromatic scale to check the tuning. Then he began playing a series of chords in a repetitive pattern and chanting along with them. Dawn recognized the words as Babylonian, with "Krevlornswath" thrown in occasionally. After a few moments, the air shimmered beside the piano and then a handsome, green-skinned demon with red horns and eyes, and dressed in a leather sports coat, materialized.

"Oh, it's you!" Lorne glared at Andrew with irritation. Looking around and seeing where he was, he turned to Angel. "Angel-babe, I asked you not to look for me!"

"This is an emergency, Lorne. Hopefully a happy emergency. Something's happened with Illyria and Fred's body."

Lorne looked at Fred's bare feet and the demon cloak. "I'll say!"

"Lorne, it's me! I'm Fred! My soul never left my body and Illyria's given me control back. But Wesley won't believe me. He thinks Illyria's pulling some kind of trick." Her eyes watered again. "Could you please read my soul? Prove it's really me?"

The irritation disappeared from Lorne's face. "If there's any chance at all that you're telling me the truth," he smiled, "how could I refuse?" He turned to Andrew. "Move!"

Andrew got off the piano bench and Lorne took his place. "Pick a song," Lorne said to Fred.

Fred thought for a few seconds. Somehow her mind went back to the desperate, seemingly hopeless moment in the alley the night before, when the hordes of demons from the Wolf, Ram and Hart descended upon them. She smiled and whispered in Lorne's ear. He began a series of recognizable chords, which would have been even more familiar had they been played on a banjo, as Fred started singing shyly and nervously:

_Raindrops keep falling on my head,_

_ And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed,_

_ Nothing seems to fit! _

_ Those--_

_ Raindrops keep falling on my--_

"Fred!" Lorne cried out. He immediately stopped playing, got up and had his arms wrapped around her as he tearfully kissed her on the cheek, with Wesley staring in open-mouthed disbelief and Angel smiling. "Fredkins! It's really you!"

Fred sobbed wordlessly in Lorne's arms and into his shoulder as he turned to Wesley. "Wes, you horse's patoot! How could you even doubt her?" He separated and held Fred at arm's length by the waist, his voice choking with tears. "This _is_ Fred! Yes, Illyria's still inside too, but this is Fred's soul singing and talking to us! Everything she says is true!"

"OHHHH!" Wesley moaned loudly as he rushed over and wrapped his arms around Fred. The two of them sobbed loudly as they kissed each other on the lips several times, and then he slid to his knees, keeping his arms around her and pressing the side of his face to her abdomen. "Oh, Winifred, Winifred, my love! Forgive me! I'm so sorry! I was such a fool! I didn't dare hope it could be true!"

She dropped to her knees as well, and then they resumed their sobbing, passionate kisses. "It's okay, Wesley. You were trying to honor my memory, and I love you for that! I was just so scared that you'd never believe me!"

"Oh, Fred! My Fred! I thought I'd never kiss you or hold you in my arms again in this life! Or the next!"

"Me either! Oh, Wesley! Wesley!"

"I love you, Winifred Burkle!"

"And I love you, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce!"

They clung to each other as they slowly stood up, still sobbing, and then both hugged Lorne. "Thank you, Lorne!" Fred whispered.

"My pleasure," Lorne kissed her cheek again.

The couple then turned to Dawn, whose own eyes were streaming, as were those of Amanda, Andrew and most of the Slayers, none of whom even knew the couple. "Thank you, Dawn," they said simultaneously as they hugged her.

"Sure. Anytime," she sniffled.

"Andrew," Fred leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for summoning Lorne! You're a lifesaver!"

"Glad to be a part of this," Andrew cried, his voice breaking up.

They headed back to the lobby. Angel stood back and held Lorne's shoulder, then waited until the lounge was empty except for the two of them. "Just so you know before you go back," he said softly, "Gunn and Spike are alive too."

"Oh, thank God! I thought it was just the three of you left."

"Spike took Gunn to Mercer Memorial just before the Slayer team arrived. I called a little while ago. Gunn's still in surgery but is expected to live. Spike apparently bugged out as soon as he dropped him off." He smiled. "Any luck at all, he's on his way to Rome on a fool's errand." He tilted his head toward the crowd. "The girl in the black with the long hair, that's Buffy's kid sister. She and Buffy still don't know Spike's alive."

"And we ain't telling them!" Lorne laughed.

"Obviously _you're_ not, since you're heading back to dimensions unknown."

"Nope," Lorne smiled and let a tear run down his cheek. "Now that Fred's back, I think I'll stick around a while. No sign of any happy endings where I was heading. Not this kind, anyway."

"There weren't any signs of that here either when you left last night."

"So I was wrong! Sue me!"

"Can't! My law firm just went out of business!"

Fred and Wesley had seated themselves on the nearest couch in the lobby and continued kissing and caressing. It wasn't so much sexual contact as sensual, feeling each other's bodies and expressing their love. They were oblivious to the crowd still in the lobby with them.

"Hey, you two!" Angel said as he came out of the cocktail lounge with Lorne. "Slayers or not, they're still a bunch of innocent and impressionable teenage girls. Get a room!" Then he added: "You've got your pick of over a hundred upstairs!"

They both laughed. "Shall we?" Fred smiled.

She and Wesley kept their arms around each other with her head resting on his shoulder as they got up and headed for the stairs. "I'd carry you up," he smiled at her, "but I'm pretty worn out. Recently dead, you know." They both giggled like kids.

As they started up the steps, Dawn, Amanda and some of the Slayers began clapping lightly. Fred blushed with embarrassment, then looked down at herself which made her blush even more. "God, I'm such a mess!"

"You are as beautiful a sight to me as you've ever been!" Wesley smiled tearfully. "But if you like... I boxed up all your things and put them in storage in the basement here. I couldn't part with them." He paused. "So all your clothes and shoes are downstairs. I'll go get you some."

"Later," she smiled. "I guess I won't need them for a little while."

"Good, then!" he laughed. "No further delays."

They reached the stair landing, out of sight of the others. "Wesley," Fred looked at him, "Illyria wants to tell you something, and I'm going to let her say it herself. Okay?"

"Okay."

She separated from him and stood straight, then her eyes and hair glowed blue, sending a chill down his spine. "Wesley," she said without expression, "it pleases me that you are alive again. You have been a kind and very helpful guide..." Her voice trailed off, her lips trembled, and then she let out an old, familiar goofy snorting giggle. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight. "Aw, screw it!" she drawled with Fred's voice. "I can't separate Fred's feelings and memories from my own anymore, and I'm never, ever gonna want to!"

She pulled back and placed her arms over his shoulders. She now had Fred's tearful smile, her eyes-- despite the glowing blue--having Fred's softness. "Wesley, I'm so sorry for the pain I caused both of you, and I'm so happy Fred and Dawn and I were able to bring you back. I _also_ love you, Wesley. And I love Fred. I never felt or understood human feelings and emotion before last night, but they're the most intense and beautiful things I've ever experienced. Especially love. I'm going to enjoy being inside Fred from now on, instead of the other way around."

They both closed their eyes as they kissed. When he opened his, she was still glowing blue for a moment and then she was Fred again.

"You both kiss the same," he noted with a smile. "Fred _and_ Illyria."

"That's 'cause she's learning from me," she smiled back, then blushed again. "And whatever _I_ don't know, we'll learn together."

* * *

Dawn had laid her sword on the floor, pulled off her jacket and boots, and stretched out on the bed. A cell phone call to Buffy and Giles brought confirmation from the Westbury coven: the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart had indeed been driven into deep remission by the wholesale slaughter of their demon horde, by some blue-haired demon goddess assisted by an ensouled vampire and other fighters.

"So Angel hadn't gone over to the other side after all," Buffy said, sounding very relieved if not proud.

"That was an incredibly risky ruse for him and the others," Giles added.

"Well, as Andrew figures," Dawn replied, "it wasn't so much a ruse as a naive hope that they could change things from the inside. But I didn't think Angel could be _that_ naive. God, even George Bailey knew that Henry Potter was trying to get him on his payroll so he could take George's power away."

"George Bailey?" Buffy asked. "I don't remember him. Was that in _Goblet of Fire_ or _Order of the Phoenix_?"

Dawn laughed, although she could never be sure if her sister was kidding or not. "_Henry_ Potter. The rich old bad guy in _It's a Wonderful Life_! George Bailey was Jimmy Stewart's character."

Silence from Buffy didn't resolve her doubts.

"So when Angel and company didn't sell out," Giles spoke up, "it came down to a confrontation to the death with the higher-ups of Wolfram and Hart."

"I still don't have all the details," Dawn said, "but yeah."

"Still incredibly dangerous in any case, from what we know of Wolfram and Hart's Senior Partners," Giles said. "So where does this blue-haired demon goddess fit in?"

"She took over Fred Burkle's body a few months ago."

"Oh, dear Lord!"

Dawn could practically hear Giles turning white, over the long silence that followed.

"That call we got from Angel," Giles finally continued. "Asking for Willow's help because Fred was dying. That was a legitimate life-or-death call for help. It wasn't some plot to use Willow's powers for the benefit of Wolfram and Hart."

"No. It wasn't." Dawn was answering truthfully. Despite her love for and loyalty toward Giles-- and even their own biological father conceded that he was the preeminent father figure in the Summers sisters' lives-- she decided it wasn't going to kill him to stew in his own guilt, at least for a couple of minutes.

"That poor young lady!" his voice shaking, loud and clear over the cell phone. "I'm responsible. I helped to kill that girl!"

"Wait a second, Dawnie," Buffy whispered. Dawn heard her hanging up her extension.

"Giles," Buffy spoke up again after a few seconds, a little fainter and echoey. Dawn figured she had been talking from her own office but had stepped over to Giles' and was now coming over his speaker phone. "Remember, you were the one who spent days and days telling me that the great Generals of history have always had to make tough decisions, for the greater good."

"Yeah," Dawn added with fake somberness, continuing the game. "From what he told me, Angel had a tough choice too. Fred's life or that of tens of thousands of other innocents." That, too, was true.

"It's cold comfort," Giles said. "Knowing you've done the right thing does not lessen the pain of the choice any." After a pause, he continued, "Dawn, the seers tell us that after the Wolfram and Hart Senior Partners went into remission, the demon goddess did as well. Can you confirm that?"

"Yes," she replied. "The demon goddess is no longer a threat."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Buffy asked.

"Well, that's part of the main thing I wanted to tell you," Dawn's voice brightened. "We're not coming home until tomorrow or Friday. We're all staying over, here at the Hyperion."

"Well, that _is_ prudent," Giles acknowledged. "No telling how deep the remission of the Senior Partners really is. Or if this this demon goddess may reappear as a threat in another body all of a sudden."

"Actually, we're staying because Angel's throwing a big party tonight!"

"Rather callous of him, isn't it," Giles said quickly. "Considering how recently it's been since they lost Miss Burkle. And how much everyone seems to have loved her." Dawn knew that Giles could never really separate Angel from his evil Angelus persona, and therefore never forgave him for the killing of Giles's true love Jenny, so the comment didn't surprise her.

"Actually," Dawn smiled to herself, "he's throwing the kind of party _I_ always wanted to throw for you, Buffy, a couple of years ago. But your mood and the timing for it were never right."

"And that kind of party is...?" Buffy asked.

"A Welcome Back From the Dead Party!" Dawn giggled girlishly.

* * *

After the drama of Fred and Wesley's reunion had subsided, they'd divided the Slayer contingent into three shifts to maintain a constant guard against a sudden resurgence of the Senior Partners, four Slayers per shift with Dawn, Andrew and Amanda each supervising a shift. Andrew and four of the Slayers on his team took the first shift in the lobby of the Hyperion while the others either took rooms upstairs and slept, or went on a munchie run.

After her phone call to Buffy and Giles, Dawn went to sleep, but didn't need too much. It was a combination, she figured, of a Slayer's ability to go without sleep when she had to, the fact that she was in charge of this whole expedition, and her exhilaration and adrenaline rush at having been part of bringing Wesley back from the dead. By the time she awoke sometime mid-afternoon, she was fully rested. She got dressed, took her broadsword and went down to the lobby, where she saw that Amanda had also awakened, and had joined Andrew and the four Slayers on his shift around a Dungeons and Dragons gameboard.

"What's up, guys?" she said. "I presume no news is good news."

"Hey, Dawn!" Amanda smiled. "We're starting a new game. You want to join us?"

"No, thanks," Dawn replied. "I could never get into that." After a pause, she smiled and gave a more diplomatic addendum: "Although I understand this is what got you two lovebirds bonded together."

"Maureen's new to D and D, too," Andrew said. "We can teach you."

"Nah," Dawn said. "I noticed a mini-mall a couple of blocks down when we came back from Holmby Hills this morning. Thought I'd pick up some stuff. Anybody want..."

She stopped short as she heard footsteps coming from the direction of the basement stairs. The four Slayers did, too, and they rose from the game board and went for their weapons.

"There's someone in the basement," Maureen noted.

"Or some _thing_!" Dawn added.

* * *

**FEEDBACK/REVIEWS ARE INVITED! In fact, I'm going through some feedback withdrawal here! ;-)**


	5. Chapter 5

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER/ANGEL: SHAKESPEARE BE DAMNED! 

CHAPTER 5

BY

LYLE FRANCIS PADILLA

(aka "Mad Tom")

* * *

It was actually her scent that had awakened Angel in his upstairs suite, before Dawn and the Slayers heard her footsteps. And smelling her scent inside the Hyperion pissed him off. He was dressed and came running down the stairway, and arrived at the doorway to the basement just as Dawn and the others had taken defensive positions behind the furniture, dividers and pillars in the lobby. He was waiting as the blonde female figure in the flower print dress and high heeled slides stepped up and into the lobby.

"Harmony!" Angel seethed. "What the hell do you want here?"

Dawn leaned her head slightly to look around her pillar. "Well, whaddya know!" she laughed to herself. "There _is_ a God!"

"Hi, Angel!" Harmony Kendall smiled sheepishly. "So this is the Hyperion!"

"I said, what the hell do you want here?"

"I was kinda hoping you'd hire me back."

Angel heaved a sigh. "You know, I've seen a lot of chutzpah in my two and a half centuries, Harmony. But you're right there at the top with this one! I ask you to keep Hamilton occupied for me, and you do so by doing a Monica Lewinsky with him and then setting me up so he damn near beats me to death! And then I fire you for betraying me, and less than eighteen hours later, you show up here at the Hyperion asking me for a job?"

"Well, I _was_ at the train station on my way out of town to start over. And then I ran into S--" Harmony caught herself. "--sssomeone I know from the underworld. It's all over town that you guys kicked Wolfram and Hart's ass and put them out of business last night. I figured you might be starting up your old Angel Investigations and could use me."

Angel just shook his head and laughed.

"You've gotta be short-handed, right?" she continued. "I heard about Wesley. I figure you could use a new office manager, or whatever he was."

Angel laughed again. "Rumors of Wesley's death may not have been greatly exaggerated, but they _are_ out of date! Besides, Wesley's job title with AI may have been fuzzy, but his job description was fathoms over your head."

"Okay! Whatever! But you can still use me as an office assistant. You know what I'm capable of!"

"Exactly, Harmony. Which is why I fired you, remember?"

"But we were all working for the Wolfram and Hart LA Office when you fired me!" Harmony squealed. "It was their payroll, so technically, _they_ fired me, and then _you_ put them out of business. And you even gave me a letter of recommendation. So you can hire me for Angel Investigations!"

Before Angel could even start a reply, a female voice announced from the lobby behind her: "Young novice Slayers and Watchers, you've just had your first lesson in Insane Troll Logic!"

Harmony froze. Three things made her freeze: the words "Slayers" and "Watchers", and the voice itself. She turned around slowly and stiffly to face...

"Dawn!" she smiled nervously.

Dawn returned her smile with a steady gaze and her bright, wide grin. But the gaze was much more predatory than sociable. "Harmony!"

"How's your sister and her old gang from Sunnydale?" she said quickly, desperate to steer the conversation away from anything confrontational.

"They're fine," Dawn sounded pleasant but kept her predatory leer. "Gee, Harmony! I haven't seen you since... four years ago. When you had me chained up in a cave as bait for my sister, and your minions started fighting you over whether or not to eat me right away!"

"Four years huh?" Harmony giggled, continuing her nervousness. "Has it really been that long?"

"Four years," Dawn confirmed. "And I have two news flashes for you! One, I have a long memory!"

Harmony waited a couple of seconds before asking, "And two?"

BAM! Dawn's well-placed kick to her midsection sent her flying backward, up and over the steps and through the double swinging doors. "I don't need my big sister to beat people up for me anymore!" Dawn yelled after her.

Harmony crashed onto the sidewalk and tumbled out from under the shadow of the awning into the sunlight. She screamed as she began to sizzle and smoke, and was a second or two from bursting into flames and dust, but Dawn had leaped out the doorway after her and pulled her back into the shade. Dawn grabbed her by the back of her collar and began beating out the smoldering fires in her hair and dress, savoring every slap of her hand.

"In or out, Angel!" Dawn said loudly, holding her at the edge of the sunlight. "It's your hotel!"

Angel put a hand to his chin with a long thoughtful silence, in homage to Jack Benny's old "Your money or your life!" routine. "I'll probably live to regret this, but _in!_"

Dawn let Harmony go and she stepped back through the doors, sighing with relief at her reprieve while staring in shock at Dawn. She hadn't taken more than a step inside when Angel grabbed her upper arm and said, "Inside to my office! Let's establish the ground rules! Again!"

Dawn returned to the D&D players, but Dungeonmaster Andrew stared after Harmony as Angel yanked her into his inner office.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Amanda asked him.

"So that's Harmony, huh?" Andrew said somberly. "I must've missed her when I was at Wolfram and Hart that one time."

"That's her," Dawn nodded. "In the lobotomized flesh! Why?"

"My cousin Cyrus disappeared back in Sunnydale. Four years ago. And he was last seen hanging around with her."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dawn said, then thought for a few seconds. "Did he look like you?"

"Uh huh," Andrew replied. "We were the same age, and growing up, people always confused the two of us. Does it ring any bells?"

Dawn nodded. "Like I said, I have a long memory. Harmony did have a minion named Cyrus. He was always in vamp-face when I saw him up close, but from what I remember, he did kinda look like you. If you'd been turned."

"Do you know what happened to him?"

"Buffy dusted him along with the rest of Harmony's minions when she rescued me."

"Oh. Thanks," Andrew nodded quietly, as Amanda placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Dawn searched for the most consoling thing she could say. "Harmony had just sired him maybe a week or so earlier. He wasn't a vamp for very long."

"That's good to know," he said. "I don't know what I'll tell my aunt and uncle about it, but it's good to know."

* * *

It was a simple task; under normal circumstances a rather mundane and even unmanly chore, really. But the very fact that he was doing it made his emotions well up again.

They'd picked out one of the Hyperion's biggest rooms that had once served as a honeymoon suite, and had immediately shed their garments-- Wesley his torn and bloodstained clothes, Fred still blushing as she shed her still-wet knit top and skirt-- and treated themselves and each other to an intimate and sensuous bubble bath in the suite's oversized tub. They noticed that the scar of his knife wound had faded from an ugly blood red to barely noticeable pink. It wasn't long, however, before the reality and the physical stresses of their ordeals of literally coming back from the dead hit both of them full force. They'd barely managed to towel off and snuggle up in bed before they both fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, albeit quite contentedly.

It had been overambitious for them to think of getting any more amorous. Rationally, they both belonged in the hospital, but then again, no hospital would let them share a room, let alone a bed, and the intimate physical contact was doing more than any medication could. The skies had stayed clear since last night's rain, and the sunlight bathed the suite through the thin inner curtains. As exhausted as they were, they each awoke occasionally, needing to reassure themselves that the other was really there, that the whole thing hadn't been a dream, and if they both happened to be awake at the same time, to give each other a tender kiss, a gentle caress, and a murmured "I love you."

Now evening was approaching, and as Wesley entered the basement storage room and knelt down at one of a number of large cardboard boxes, he remembered the pain of the last time he was there, the pain of packing and putting her things away. He'd had to do it, he'd told himself, so he could let go and move on. He'd made plenty of excuses to himself as to why he didn't actually get rid of her things: that someday Roger and Trish Burkle would learn the truth about their daughter and would want her things, or Illyria would sooner or later perish-- he himself had tried to destroy her more than once-- and he could then give Fred's body a proper burial and would then need one of her dresses to bury her in. But he had never dared let himself imagine the reason that actually did bring him back to that room: Fred had been alive all along and had now asked him to pick out a dress, shoes and underthings because she had absolutely nothing to wear and was upstairs, lying nude in a bed he had just left.

When he opened the box, Wesley rested his face on the stack of her clothes inside it, and let himself weep quiet tears of joy. It was a joy beyond words, a feeling beyond joy. On so many different levels, his life had been given back to him. The one thing that finally got him moving again was his reminder to himself that she was waiting for him upstairs.

He'd found a shopping bag among her things to carry the items he picked out. When he returned to the upstairs hallway, he found a large giftwrapped box in front of the door. Picking it up, he read the card:

"Dear Wesley: Wear these in good health! In other words, please try not to get blood on them! Love, Dawn", followed by a smiley face. He laughed.

When he reentered the suite, Fred was still in bed, sitting up between the sheets and was on the phone.

"I'm a survivor, Momma!" Her voice was tearful. "You know what my life is, and after what I've been through, I can survive anything..."

Wesley placed the shopping bag and Dawn's present on the bed and sat with her, kissing her.

"Wesley just walked in... I promise I'll call you every day from now on," Fred continued. "And now that Wolfram and Hart are out of business, I'm sure I have some free time and can come home real soon to see you... Real soon. I promise... I love you, too, Momma. I love you, Daddy. I'll talk to you again tomorrow."

She hung up and smiled at him. "Momma and Daddy send their love."

"Did you tell them about Illyria?"

"I just told them I wasn't really myself the last time they saw me," she smiled. "They can read between the lines."

"But you _will_ tell them eventually, right?"

"That's something you just don't do over the phone. But I will eventually actually introduce Illyria to them. We're a part of each other now."

"That's much better than me telling them you're dead and your body's been possessed."

"Amen to that!" she laughed. "You heard what I said about my coming home real soon to see them. You coming?"

"Fred Burkle, if I have any choice in the matter, I'm never letting you out of my sight for the rest of my life!"

She kissed him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Me too, Wesley." After a moment's thought, she looked at him. "You gonna call _your_ folks?"

"It's almost Three A.M. in England," he replied, then turned to face her and took her hands in his. "And before I do call them, there's one very important question I have to ask you first..."

* * *

The two of them were still unsteady on their feet as they came down the steps to the lobby holding hands. Dawn's package for Wesley had contained a full change of new clothing except for the jacket and shoes, with a turtleneck almost identical to the one he'd been stabbed in. Fred wore the pastel-yellow knee-length summer dress he'd brought up-- he'd told her he thought of "The Yellow Rose of Texas" when he'd selected it. They were met with a round of applause from the others as they reached the bottom step.

Although they still carried their weapons, the Slayer contingent had for the most part changed their attire; Andrew had actually brought and was wearing his tweed three-piece, forcing Wesley to bite his tongue about how long it had taken him to break out of the tweed habit himself. Dawn still had her leather jacket over a dark blue top, but had swapped the black jeans and boots for a floral print skirt and sandals, and Amanda and most of the Slayers had similarly changed from "fighty" to "festive" as well.

"Okay!" Lorne announced as he handed flyers to Dawn, Amanda and Andrew. "Address and directions to Casa Francisca. The reservation's under Angel Investigations. Hope you all like Mexican."

"Dawn," Angel said to her, "we have to make one stop along the way, visit a friend in the hospital before visiting hours are over, and we'd appreciate it if you came along. The others in the vans can go ahead, but do you mind following us?"

"Okay," Dawn nodded. "Oh, and I love Mexican, but is there anything special about this Casa Francisca?"

Wesley, Lorne and Angel all smiled affectionately at Fred before saying in unison: "All You Can Eat Tacos!"

* * *

Gunn was feeling no pain. The Demerol added to the IV solution dripping into his left arm made sure of that. Once he'd come out of general anesthesia and been moved from surgical recovery to a regular room, he'd drifted in and out of sleep all day long, with the TV on a news channel. The top story all day long was that the office of Senator Helen Brucker had announced that she had been hospitalized at an undisclosed location and was resigning her senate seat effective immediately and withdrawing her bid for reelection, due to health reasons not further disclosed. There was also some passing mention of the building of the Wolfram and Hart law offices being closed until further notice due to the discovery of structural damage, attributed to shoddy construction. There was no mention of any connection between that and the senator's illness and resignation. The fact that the surviving minions of her organization were covering up the senator's death, and that there was no citywide manhunt announced for the person who had thrown a battleaxe into her forehead, told him that he could relax, and that kept him more asleep than awake.

But he was more or less lucid, and he was pretty sure he wasn't dreaming when he heard a man's voice whisper "Gunn!" and felt a hand shake him on his right forearm.

"GAAH!" he screamed, flinching and stiffening, after his eyes followed the man's arm up and he saw it belonged to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. Wesley was immediately grateful that the other bed in the semi-private room was vacant.

"Relax, Gunn!" he smiled. "I'm not here to escort you to the arms of Baby Jesus. Or to any other afterlife dimension, for that matter."

"I'm not floating above my own body..." Gunn breathed heavily as he looked around. "There's no white light pulling me..." He patted Wesley's arm up to the shoulder and then went to his face.

"I'm not a vampire, zombie or ghost, either," Wesley assured him.

"We're both not dead?" Gunn caught his breath. "Sucka! Illyria told us you were dead!"

"I was, actually. But she and Fred were able to bring me back, with a lot of help from Buffy's sister Dawn..."

"Wait! She _and_ Fred...?" Gunn looked at him hopefully. "That really was her in the alley? Fred's really back? If anyone oughta know, you would."

"It's her," Wesley lowered his head, "but I'm ashamed to say I didn't believe her. It took her singing for Lorne for me to believe her. I'm just grateful that she's forgiven me."

"Oh, thank God!" Gunn smiled, then began to weep.

"Anyway, Fred and Dawn are waiting in the Solarium along with Angel, Nina and Lorne. They have an 'Only two visitors per patient at a time' rule on this floor. At any rate, Andrew tells us that Dawn and Buffy still don't know anything about Spike showing up at Wolfram and Hart after they thought he burned up in the Sunnydale Hellmouth, and Angel wants to keep it that way. So we want to get the story straight with you before they come in."

"Wait a second! Not that I wouldn't welcome any visitors, but why would Buffy's sister even want to see me? I've never met either her _or_ Buffy!"

"Trust us, Gunn," Wesley smiled. "_You're_ going to be glad to see _her_. Anyway, they still don't know about Spike, so as far as they're concerned, right after the fight, you managed to make it out of the alley to the street, where you flagged down a passing police car, and they called an ambulance for you. All right?"

"Okay. I made it to the street and the cops found me. Not that I'm not grateful to Spike for carrying my ass all the way over here."

"Let me go get them. I'll see you tomorrow, Gunn."

"Thanks, Wes. And welcome back from the Great Beyond!"

"Thanks."

Wesley stepped out, and it only took a few seconds for Fred to enter, with Dawn a few steps behind her.

"Hi, Charles," she smiled, then leaned over and they kissed each other on the cheek.

"Welcome back, Fred," he smiled back and squeezed her hand, continuing to weep. "So it's really you!"

"It's really me!"

"So how're you feeling? You weren't in any better shape than I was the last time I saw you."

"I _was_ a mess," Fred nodded. "I really didn't want to live. But when Dawn and the Slayers showed up... Oh, I'm sorry. Dawn Summers, this is Charles Gunn, an old, dear friend."

"Hi," Dawn smiled.

"I'm charmed," Gunn smiled back.

"Dawn's a--" Fred squinted at her. "What exactly are you? A Watcher or a Slayer or what?"

"I'm not even sure what to consider myself!" Dawn laughed. "Willow and Xander call me the Utility Player."

"Anyway," Fred continued, "Illyria could sense that there was a way we could bring Wesley back if we got back to his body in time."

"Ah, yes," Gunn nodded. "Illyria. How is old Blue Thunder?"

"Old Blue Thunder has graciously decided to demobilize herself until the next war, and is enjoying being a human being and sharing memories and sensations with yours truly. And once I realized I did have a reason to live and got used to having my own body back, I was okay. I'm still a little woozy, but I'm okay."

"And just how _did_ you bring Wesley back from the Great Beyond?"

Fred looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Dawn?"

Dawn stepped forward to the bed.

"Now we're not going to see any big fireworks like with Wesley," Fred said. "We're not bringing Charles here back after being dead for over three hours. And his wound isn't nearly as bad as Wesley's."

"No demon hitchhikers either, right?" Dawn asked.

"Shouldn't be."

Gunn watched apprehensively as the two women held hands and them placed their free hands on top of his abdomen where they could see the bloody bandages through his gown. After a few seconds, green sparks appeared over the wound, and continued to dance there for several seconds after Fred and Dawn pulled back their hands.

"Whoa!" he stared as the sparks disappeared.

"You'll be good as new in a couple of hours," Fred smiled. "Good thing, too, since Wolfram and Hart's health insurance probably went belly up with the company. The doctors here will probably want you out of here in a couple of days regardless of how well you've healed."

"Fred," Dawn asked, "are you sure this only works on wounds inflicted by demons?"

"Unfortunately," Fred nodded. "I know what you're thinking. We could do a lot of good just hanging around any old ER, but it doesn't work that way." Then she added, "Dawn, could you please excuse us for a second?"

"Sure. I'll be right outside. Nice meeting you, Charles."

"Same here, Dawn."

Fred waited until Dawn was out in the hallway. "Charles," she smiled, "you're a dear friend, but I think we're both agreed that it was better off that we never went further than we did when we were dating."

"Yeah, Fred. No argument there."

"Wesley and I are right for each other. We belong together."

"Fred, not only do I know that, but I think I knew that before the two of you did!"

"Wesley and I belong to each other now. Losing each other and getting each other back made us realize that more than ever. I love Wesley with all my heart, body and soul."

"And I'm happy for both of you," Gunn nodded. "But like I just said, I think I knew that before you two did. So where are you going with this?"

"I just wanted you to know," she continued to smile, "having said all that, that I _still_ think you're not unpleasant to my eyes!"

They both laughed as she kissed him on the eyebrow.

* * *

Angel and Lorne had arranged for a banquet room with a piano at Casa Francisca, so between Lorne's repertoire and several of the Slayers' efforts at karaoke, there was plenty of self-generated entertainment for the evening. As it turned out, a majority of the party and not just Fred took advantage of the All You Can Eat Taco special.

Dawn went to the powder room, and when she returned to the banquet room, Angel was waiting right inside the door, away from both the dining tables and the piano. "Dawnie," he smiled, "all day long, I haven't had a chance to talk to you alone."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you alone, too, Angel."

"How's Buffy?"

"She's fine," Dawn nodded. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. She asked me to give you a message." She paused and smiled. "_If_ it didn't turn out that you were on the side of Wolfram and Hart, and we didn't end up having to kill you first!"

"Well," he laughed, "I can see where that might have been a possibility from your perspective."

"That's the reason she put me in charge of this mission instead of leading it herself."

Angel nodded to himself but said nothing; this was further evidence of his theory that they weren't really living in Rome, or anyplace outside of Southern California for that matter.

"She said to tell you," Dawn continued, "that she's still not done baking. She said you'd know what that meant."

"Yeah, I do, and that's pretty much the message I was expecting," Angel nodded. He looked over to the dining table where Nina was sitting with Fred and Wesley, laughing along with them at something. "Tell Buffy I've found myself a cookie that's done," he smiled.

He returned to the table and Nina, while Dawn kept standing by the wall. By the piano, Cyndi, Maureen and two other Slayers finished up their rendition of "I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman" and returned to their seats.

"Okay, Wes!" Lorne said loudly. "You're up!"

Wesley smiled back noncommittally.

"Wesley! Wesley!" the others began to chant.

"We gonna do this or what?" Lorne prodded. "Come on, Wes! How many times will you ever have an opportunity to sing this song under these circumstances? Hopefully never again after tonight!"

Fred smiled and gave Wesley a gentle shove, and he stepped up to the piano and took the microphone, sitting on the barstool there. He started singing as Lorne played.

_Long, long time ago--_

_I can still remember how that music_

_Used to make me smile._

_I knew if I had the chance_

_That I could make those people dance_

_And maybe they'd be happy for a while..._

With Lorne singing backup, Wesley launched into the full rendition of the song, grinning at the irony each time he got to the chorus:

_So bye-bye, Miss American Pie!_

_Drove my Chevy to the levee,_

_But the levee was dry._

_Them good old boys _

_Were drinking whiskey and rye,_

_Singing "This'll be the day that I die..._

_This'll be the day that I die!"_

There was laughter and applause the first time the younger members of the audience heard the unfamiliar last lines of the chorus, especially Dawn, who realized that he'd been stabbed by Vail sometime after midnight, so it was technically true. By the time he finished the sixth and last verse, almost everyone was singing along with the chorus.

Fred then got up and joined him by the piano, pulling up another barstool and sitting close to him as he held her hand.

"That last song was an Oldie," Wesley explained, "and this next one's an even older Oldie. It was already an Oldie when I was born. In fact, I believe it's almost as old as Rupert Giles!"

He paused and waited for the hoots and laughter to subside. "But Winifred and I searched our memories through all the songs we knew, and couldn't think of any other song that says it all quite like this one."

As Lorne started the accompaniment, Wesley and Fred leaned toward each other and let their foreheads touch as they sang.

_Darling, you can count on me,_

_'Til the sun dries up the sea._

_Until then I'll always be_

_Devoted to you._

_I'll be yours through endless time._

_I'll adore your charms sublime..._

The old song, again unfamiliar to most present, left no dry eye in the room by the time they finished the last verse:

_Through the years our love will grow._

_Like a river it will flow._

_It can't die because I'm so_

_Devoted to you._

As Wesley and Fred finished with a kiss, Lorne sniffled and said, "Wow! _I_ need a break after that one!"

The couple got off the barstools and looked around the room until they found Dawn, still standing by herself and now wiping her eyes. They continued to hold hands as they approached her.

"Wow!" Dawn said. "I'm speechless!"

"Well, what we're about to tell you may leave you even more speechless, Dawnie," Wesley said.

"We owe you so much, Dawnie, but we have one more big favor to ask you," Fred added.

"Just name it!" Dawn grinned.

"Did you have any plans for next weekend?" Fred asked.

"Well, we weren't sure if we were still going to be holding back an apocalypse," Dawn furrowed her eyebrows, "but since you and your blue-haired alter-ego seem to have taken care of that..."

* * *

"Fred and Wesley want you to meet them in Vegas!" Buffy laughed. "Next weekend! To be their Maiden of Honor!"

"Yeah!" Dawn nodded, annoyed at her apparent disbelief.

"A woman you just met three days ago. And my former Watcher, who hadn't seen you since you were twelve. Are eloping and want you to be their Maiden of Honor!"

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

Buffy just looked at her and continued her skeptical smile.

"Oh, okay, it _is_!" Dawn sighed. "But now that I'm home, I can tell you the stuff I couldn't tell you over the phone. Fred-slash-Illyria didn't just..."

"Fred-slash-Illyria?" Buffy looked at her. "You've really been hanging around Andrew way too much."

"Hey, he and Amanda are becoming _my_ Xander and Willow! Especially since Kit and Carlos's families were among the first of the Sunnydale Exodus and are now God knows where. Anyway, you're missing the point!"

"Just messing with your head," Buffy giggled, then reached over and stroked Dawn's hair. "Now that you're almost legal, I don't have to be the substitute Mom all the time. I can go back to being the nasty old big sister. By the way, you really should try monkey brai-- I mean marshmallows in your hot chocolate sometime!"

They laughed. "Anyway," Buffy continued, "you were about to tell me about Fred and what you couldn't say over the phone."

"Buffy, Fred didn't just pull Wesley back from the dead all by herself. She needed _my_ Key energy to bring his soul across dimensions from the afterlife."

"So you were, like, her battery pack."

"Something like that."

"One Hundred and One Uses for an Interdimensional Key!" Buffy giggled again, but beamed proudly while doing so.

"We're only up to three, by my count," Dawn reminded her, "and since Number One involves ending the universe, we shouldn't even count that. But Buffy, being a part of it, bringing Wesley back... It was so awesome and humbling."

"I kinda figured it was something like that. So Wes owes you his life."

Dawn blushed a little, still not used to the hero role. "Well, yeah, I guess so."

"Is he all right?" Buffy asked a little uncomfortably. "You know, emotionally... He's not messed up like..."

"Not messed up like you were, you mean." Dawn finished the sentence for her and she nodded back wordlessly. "No. He's fine. Ecstatic even. Maybe partly because he wasn't dead long enough to settle into Heaven like you did. But definitely because not only did he come back from the dead, but his Fred was waiting for him when he did."

"Aww, that's sweet!" Buffy smiled. "I get the Maiden of Honor part, then. But when it comes to run-off-to-Las Vegas-and-elope-in-one-week types, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce is not exactly the first person who comes to mind. Neither is Fred, even though I've only talked to her on the phone, never met her face-to-face."

"Coming back from the dead changes you. Buffy, you of all people should know that."

"I know! But you just said he wasn't messed up emotionally!"

"Well, it wasn't so much coming back from the dead themselves, but watching each other die, and then getting each other back. They told me it made them realize that life's too precious, too short and too unpredictable."

"Yeah," Buffy nodded and smiled.

"So I can go to Vegas?"

"Of course you can, Dawnie! You'll be eighteen in a few more months. Pretty soon, you won't have to ask me."

"You coming with? You're invited, but if you're uncomfortable with seeing Angel there, I can just go with Andrew and Amanda. Remember, he had a pretty big part in this, too."

"I'll think about it," Buffy nodded tentatively. After a second, she added, "So tell me about Angel's new cookie."

"Nina? Blonde, pretty, petite, seemingly very vulnerable on the outside. But incredibly strong, physically and spiritually, under the surface. Kinda reminds me of you..."

Buffy nodded pensively, not sure whether to be jealous or flattered.

"... if your powers only came out during the full moon."

Buffy let out a short laugh. "Werewolf, huh?"

"Werewolf," Dawn nodded.

Buffy was quietly contemplating this when there was a light rapping at the partially open door and they saw Giles and Willow standing there. Both of them were holding hard copies of Dawn's field report. "Come on in!" Dawn said.

"Excuse me, Dawn," Giles said. "Just wanted to compliment you on your field report. This is exactly why I wanted to designate you as a Watcher in the first place. This is the first time in the history of the Watchers' Diaries that a Slayer ever wrote her own firsthand Watcher's Diary entry." He grinned. "I'm willing to forget any previous misgivings I've had that it was written on a Macintosh and printed on an HP Deskjet, instead of handwritten in a leatherbound volume. Your diary writings when you were younger have served you well."

"Yes," Willow smiled. "The Dawnmeister Chronicles did not die in vain. Plus, your grandpa's still reading his copy downstairs, but he says you're a chip off the old block!"

"It wasn't much of a report," Dawn said modestly. "The fighting was over by the time we got there. The only demon we killed was the one that was already dead and got reanimated when we resurrected Wes."

"You see, it's not just about slaying demons and vampires, Dawn," Giles said. "Its an accumulation of knowledge and intelligence, and lessons learned, that can be called forth for future use."

"So, Dawnie," Willow asked, "Fred's really all right?"

"Well, keep in mind that I never met her before this trip, so I have no solid frame of reference as to what she was like before. But Lorne seems to be the final say, and she sang and everything, and he's certain her soul's really back."

"Thank Goddess!" Willow sighed.

"Willow, I know it was rough for you," Giles said. "I know she's your friend. But we really couldn't risk Wolfram and Hart getting hold of you and tapping your powers for their use."

"I know," Willow nodded. "You have to make the tough decisions for the greater good." There was still a trace of bitter sarcasm in her voice.

"Your going there when Angel first called wouldn't have made any difference anyway," Dawn said consolingly. "He and Wes wanted you to try to re-ensoul her, and she said her soul never left her body in the first place."

"And if we'd somehow interfered," Giles said, "we might have prevented Illyria from taking corporeal form, and she wouldn't have been able to stop the apocalypse and drive the Wolf, Ram and Hart into remission. It all worked out for the best."

Dawn was more than willing to help alleviate whatever anguish and guilt Willow was feeling, but there was a smugness in Giles' tone that she wasn't going to let slide. "We can't just chalk it up to 'We're the good guys, and God or the Powers That Be are on our side!' Fred's got an incredibly strong soul. _She_ won out over Illyria, _and_ over the Wolf, Ram and Hart. Fred used Illyria to save the world."

Buffy looked over at Willow and smiled. "I guess this is another case where the human soul and pure love can win out over evil and darkness. Like you and Xander on Kingman's Bluff."

"Yeah," Willow smiled back, a little pained at the memory.

"And we were lucky we didn't get there any later than we did," Dawn added, "otherwise, Wes was a goner. Actually, he was, but I mean permanently."

"Damned lucky," Willow nodded.

"Well," Giles said, a little defensively now, "as the Bard said, all's well that ends well."

"Actually, Giles," Dawn looked at him, "I was thinking more in terms of how close we came to a different kind of Shakespearean ending. Like Romeo and Juliet's big tragic dirt nap!"

"Oh, what do you want me to say?" Giles sighed. "That I was wrong not to try to help? That Winifred overcame torture and halted an apocalypse, and she and Wesley escaped a tremendous tragedy, in spite of my decisions? That I should be on my knees thanking God that things didn't get any worse because of me?"

"Yes!" the three girls chorused.

"Oh, very well, then. I was wrong! In retrospect with twenty-twenty hindsight, I was wrong. All right?"

"We love you, Giles," Buffy smiled. "It's just that now that you're head of the Council, we just want you to be careful and keep from getting all pompous like Quentin Travers. We don't want to end up hating you like we hated him."

"Thank you," he said dryly, but after some thought, his expression softened. _Lessons learned,_ he reminded himself.

TO BE CONTINUED in the final book (_Old Scores to Settle_) of the series _The Family That Slays Together_, which I probably won't post until the other books in the series prior to this have been completed and posted. In the meantime, if you haven't already done so, you are again cordially invited read what I've already posted of this storyline in _Blood of the Night Stalker_ and _The Family That Slays Together__ Book 1: Home Base._

GRRR! ARRGH!

* * *

**FEEDBACK/REVIEWS ARE INVITED! Please keep 'em coming! Thanks to those who have reviewed! ;-)**

**Author's Notes:**

**A reminder that this book is temporarily posted in the _Angel_ fanfic section, and will eventually be deleted and reposted in the BtVS fanfic section.**

**My use of Don McLean's _American Pie_ as Wesley's song of celebration is a combination of the use of irony in the lyrics, a nostalgic reference to my old days in the Air Force where it was the unofficial squadron song of a squadron I was in, and a backhanded reference to Alexis Denisof's real-life wife (and the Buffyverse's favorite Wiccan) and the series of works for which she is next-best remembered after BtVS!**

**To Nala 147 and Angus: Both Amy Acker and Joss Whedon have indicated in interviews that had _Angel_ gone on to Season 6, Fred would have slowly reemerged to the point that she and Illyria would have developed into a Clark Kent-Superman type of relationship. Presumably Wesley wouldn't have been killed off and would have suffered through the angst of this development which, also presumably, would have been dragged out for the entire season. I just tried to remain faithful to that premise, but compressed it all into one night for the needs of this storyline; I also happen to be a psychologist by profession, and in my opinion, Fred's reemergence and merger with Illyria would have to have been pretty much instantaneous once the barrier had been breached, as I depicted in the last paragraph of Chapter 1.**

**To asdeed: Thanks for the compliments! If you're a fan of both Buffy and the original Kolchak, I _guarantee_ it'll be worth it!**


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